


People are stab-able

by Threatie



Category: Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Consensual Death, Knife Violence, M/M, coping with feelings via murder, emotional support for your killer, non-permanent death, off-screen blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24400900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threatie/pseuds/Threatie
Summary: Chapter Three of New In Town left Ryan with some unresolved murder-horny.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	People are stab-able

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wrespawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [New In Town](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24306886) by [Wrespawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/pseuds/Wrespawn). 



Putting a name to the face of the cop who'd made demands of the Fake AH Crew and lived to tell about it had done nothing to stop the tingle in Ryan's knife hand. That brush of nerves across his palm crying out for the smooth, solid handle of a knife. Deep muscle memory in his arm, his shoulder, aching to act out the motions of a good, solid _stab_. 

The Vagabond didn't like people who knew people who'd killed Rimmy Tim. The Vagabond wanted to warm the cold steel of his knife in the heated embrace of their hearts.

Having no other outlet for the urge...there was always Rimmy Tim. 

Jeremy laughed delightedly as Ryan tumbled him into bed. He did, at least, have the decency to look serious when the knife appeared in Ryan's hand, but the affection never left his eyes.

"Had a craving?"

Ryan groaned, the urge to bury his face between Jeremy's shoulder and neck only eclipsed by the desire to keep his knife there. "Wanted to stab a guy, but Geoff said no."

"I didn't know you'd been out today. Who'd Geoff tell you not to stab?"

Ryan took a breath, then paused, mentally rewinding the point at which he'd need to enter the story. "Remember that most recent time you died?"

Jeremy grinned, pushing his hips playfully against Ryan while simultaneously keeping his upper body perfectly still, careful not to help the knife at his throat bite any deeper. "I thought _this_ was the most recent time I'd died."

"No, before this. Guy who whisked you off on a surprise island getaway."

"Guy who cheaped out on the resort, you mean."

Ryan took another breath, readying himself again to deliver, if not _bad_ news, then as close to bad as the Fakes were accustomed to. "His friend was just in here, asking why it didn't work. His friend the _cop_."

For a moment, Jeremy was silent. Then he said simply, "Oh."

"So you can see," Ryan continued, tilting the knife against Jeremy's neck in an oh-so-gratifying sawing motion which brought beads of blood to the surface, "why I might be feeling a small bit slitty."

"I get that." Jeremy's hand lifted to cover his, gentle and soothing. Not an ounce of resistance to the blade currently toying with spilling his life across the sheets. "He sounds like a very stab-able man."

Ryan laughed, lifting the knife a few scant inches from skin so that he could tilt it to the light, see the gratifying beads of _red_. "You get me."

"And now you wanna kill me yourself, before those two have all the fun?"

"You _really_ get me."

"I love you, babe." Jeremy settled back against the pillows, more calm in his eyes than anyone should've had when faced with Ryan's knife. "Don't let me stop you."

Muscle memory was too simple an explanation. Ryan's body _sang_ as his knife slid home, burying itself right where it belonged in increasingly slick movements. Marking, clawing, _claiming_ the man beneath him until no one could take Jeremy away from him.

Until there was nothing left to take.

Ryan rolled off the bloodied corpse with a contented sigh. The knife remained in his hand, harmless as a kitten's paw. The Vagabond had retracted his claws. 

Beside him was the lifeless shape of Rimmy Tim, blood trickling slowly into the dip Ryan's body made in the mattress. The sight was not dissimilar to what he'd unexpectedly witnessed behind the Credit and Commerce bank. This time, though, it didn't trouble him. If he just lay here...and was very, very patient...Jeremy would soon finish his sprint back from the respawn room, and would no doubt be kind enough to fuck his face. 


End file.
